Peris Night: Terakon (Secret Language)

by Eva Maria Klima

  “Yes, I fell down the stairs. How clumsy of me.” As I spoke, I tried to appear as casual as possible.

  He grinned. “A little bird told me that Michael and my brother took care of the malicious steps.”

  Now the image of the murdered men flashed before my eyes again, and I felt myself blanch. My reaction didn’t escape Jeremeia. He handed me another shot of Tequila. “If you want to survive in our world, you should learn to be less sensitive. All I can say is that from what I’ve heard, it would have been an honor to take care of this business for you.” Had Jeremeia just told me he’d gladly have killed several men for me? I needed that Tequila to help me process the thought, and the others followed my example.

  What new pickle had I gotten myself onto? When I started to feel the alcohol take effect, amplified by the painkillers, I loosened up and lowered my guard. I excused myself to use the bathroom. Iveria offered to come with me, but I was sure I’d master the few steps from the wheelchair to the toilet with my cast, thank you very much. To get there, I had to cross the ballroom and then roll down a long corridor. When I left the restroom again, Jeremeia was waiting in the hallway. He moved to stand before me and block my path, displaying superhuman speed. He probably expected me to give a start, but I wasn’t frightened. He looked disappointed, so I suggested: “If you want to, we can rewind the scene and I’ll act all scared. Why are you here?”

  “I simply wanted to make sure that you made it back to your corner without incident. Daniel said he couldn’t manipulate you.”

  “Yeah, and? No offense, Jeremeia, but the fact that I can’t be enchanted is kind of old hat by now.”

  “We don’t use magic, but a form of hypnosis. If you don’t object, I’d like to try that with you.”

  It was my turn to be surprised. “Since when does a vampire ask permission?”

  “I respect you.” It felt good to hear that at least one supernatural being respected me, or at least said so. I nodded and raised my head to look into his eyes. I was all but mesmerized by his beautiful brown eyes and wanted to drown in their depths. A flicker of hope was visible in the deep pools. He thought that he was being successful, and that was exactly what broke the fascination. “Can we go back now, or is there anything else you want from me?”

  “I was going to offer to heal your wounds.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “Of course. All you have to do is drink a little of my blood.”

  “No, thank you, we don’t need your help,” Michael barged in, coming round the corner. There was an implicit threat in his voice. He turned to glare at me. “Are you insane, leaving the ballroom without Iveria? Why can’t I ever rely on you to do as you’re told?” he hissed in frustration.

  “Michael, come on,” Jeremeia tried to defend me, but Michael cut him off with an irritated: “That is none of your business, Jeremeia, stay out of this!”

  I was sick of his relentless patronizing. I flared: “I’ve had enough! You didn’t tell me that I wasn’t supposed to leave the ballroom without Iveria. You’ve got some nerve telling me that you cannot rely on me, too. I risked everything today, trying to save your ass. After I’d overheard the conversation, I could have taken a car and left you to perish. And don’t tell me I wouldn’t have gotten very far, for no matter what spells you have in place around this property, I’m sure I wouldn’t even have noticed them. So there!” When I was done, I glared at him for good measure.

  “Come on, I didn’t mean it that way,” he tried to placate me in a more sober voice.

  I turned my head to the side, still offended. “I’m going to bed now. Jeremeia, it was nice to meet you. I’m glad that at least one of you lot professes to respect me.”

  “It was a pleasure talking to you,” Jeremeia replied smoothly and flashed Michael a triumphant grin. I left them to bluster, without so much as looking at Michael again.

  Once I was in our room, I grabbed my pajama top, rolled into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, took off my dress and put on the top. I had worn a string under the dress, since panties would have shown under the delicate fabric. I felt a little dizzy from the alcohol as I made my way back into the bedroom, dressed only in the top and my string. Michael was already waiting for me by the bed. Without a word he lifted me out of the wheelchair and lay me down on the bed, before sitting down across from me. I gave him a questioning look, and when he didn’t say anything, I spoke up: “Michael, it was a very long day, and I’m only a fragile, weak human. I finally need some rest.” He merely nodded, glanced furtively at my string, kissed me on the forehead, and slipped out.

  When I woke up the next morning, I felt significantly better. My face and my leg barely hurt, and even my ribs were less offended. I hoisted myself into the wheelchair and made my way into the bathroom. It was a challenge to get dressed without help. A man entered the front room and brought me breakfast, asking whether I needed anything else. I was sure that he was human.

  I was sitting on the couch with my injured leg propped up on one of the armchairs, when Michael entered the room. He sat down beside me. Gingerly, as if I was made of glass, he put his hands on my cheeks and kissed me. “I’m sorry,” he admitted sincerely. “I know I owe you a bunch of answers by now, but since we’re expected for an assembly, that still has to wait,” he continued after a brief pause. He did not look all that contrite that he was forced to postpone our overdue conversation yet again.

  “When do we have to go and what do you expect from me?” I immediately wanted to know, since my most recent experience hadn’t been great.

  “We should be downstairs in fifteen minutes. I can only guess what this is about, but since your presence was explicitly requested, I’m assuming it has to do with your abilities. What I expect is that you let me do the talking, except for when you’re asked a direct question. You have to trust me on this!” Trust? Again that big word. If I was honest with myself, I had no reason to distrust him. He had never left me hanging. Of course I held him responsible for my situation sometimes, but on the other hand it wasn’t his fault that several people had seen me lift the curse from the two vampires, nor was it his fault that I had hurled Nikelaus across the room. I thought of the men in the cabin. Their death was certainly no great loss, and yet I couldn’t simply brush off the fact that Daniel and Michael had killed them in cold blood.

  He studied me with curiosity. “What are you thinking about right now? You do trust me, don’t you?”

  I pondered the question for a moment. “Yes, I trust you, even though I know you are dangerous.”

  He gave me a thoughtful look, smiled briefly, and then got serious again. “If there is one creature in the world that doesn’t have to be afraid of me, it’s you,” he declared with sincerity. I don’t know why, but I believed him. I put my hands on his shoulders and gently pulled him closer, until I could wrap my arms around his neck. Then I did what I had been refraining from for a long time. I kissed him. He returned my kiss. In a flash he knelt over me on the couch, his legs next to mine on both sides. His hands pushed me gently against the backrest and began to explore my body. The only thought I had was how amazing his touch felt. What was this man doing to me? I felt like a slave to my own desire. My hands wandered underneath his shirt, and my body strained against his. Encouraged by my reaction he freed me from my top. Fortunately I was wearing sexy underwear. I wanted him to like what he saw. I wanted him to desire me as much as I desired him. He studied my bosom, his lips curled into a happy smile, and then he kissed me. When his lips left mine, they trailed kisses down my throat and then moved to my breasts. It felt incredibly good. It wasn’t enough. I let out a soft moan as my hand grabbed his butt and pulled him closer, ever closer, while my other hand caressed his face and throat. I could feel his desire for me now, and it was at least as wild and urgent as mine. I would have done anything for this man in that moment. Someone knocked on the door and we were jerked back to reality.

  “It’s me. Father is expecting you in the conference room. He as
ked me to check what’s keeping you.” When Michael heard Iveria’s voice, he raised his head with a frustrated sigh and then took a deep breath. It took him an obvious effort to pull away from me, and I couldn’t keep my hands off him either. Every muscle in my body refused to let go. He gave me an affectionate smile, cupped my cheek and kissed me again, before saying regretfully: “I’m afraid we have to go, my darling.” The way he stressed the word ‘darling’ and the weight he put into that term of endearment gave me butterflies, and not just in my stomach. I put my top back on, while he opened the door for his sister, who’d waited patiently. Her eyes wandered approvingly from him to me.

  Michael lifted me up and wanted to set me down in the wheelchair again, but I asked him to bring me the crutches instead.

  I hobbled after them through the long hallways of the manor until we reached a smaller conference room. Several people were waiting for us there. Apparently this was a less formal occasion than the audience.

  Martellius greeted me and introduced me to a man named Eurephius, who was strikingly unattractive for a supernatural being, and two women named Alexis and Gabriele. He said they were all sages of magic. “I was told that you’ve already met Jeremeia and Daniel. They’re both esteemed family friends,” he added. Jeremeia and Daniel nodded a greeting, and I returned the gesture. Without further ado, Alexis, a tall, black-haired woman with blue eyes, commenced the meeting: “The three of us have been asked to speak to you and find out what you are capable of and why. To make our work easier, we want you to tell us everything you know about your parents.”

  I blanched in fright. That seemed to become a bad habit of mine. When it came to my parents, I had made my decision three days before, and I would stand by it. I met her gaze with as much politeness as I could muster and declared: “I’ve resolved not to drag my parents into my affairs and I’m not going to change my mind about that. I’m afraid I can’t help you.” It was obvious that she couldn’t believe her ears. She looked at Michael, silently calling for him to discipline me. When he didn’t react, she turned to me again. “If you aren’t willing to cooperate, I’ll have to conclude that you’re purposely keeping something from us,” she threatened.

  “I have never noticed anything paranormal or supernatural about my parents, and I refuse to endanger them for no reason.”

  She looked at me as if I had slapped her, but smiled when she asked: “Why do you think that your parents would be in danger if their identities were revealed?” Was she trying to take me for a fool? The only answer I had for this question was a raised eyebrow.

  “Then tell us what you know about your abilities and what you think they are,” the second woman demanded. Gabriele had a weirdly deep voice for a woman. I wasn’t sure what to tell her and what to leave out. I glanced at Michael for reassurance, and he reacted with a nod of encouragement. “I’m sure you already know about the vampires and Nikelaus,” I ventured. She nodded and I went on: “I seem to be immune to almost all magic. This immunity has gotten stronger since I met Michael and his friends, and I also noticed that I heal more quickly since then.”

  “Is that it?” Gabriele probed. Her voice held suspicion.

  My gaze wandered as I pondered her question, and when I looked at Daniel, he closed his mouth with a clack of his teeth. I’d all but forgotten that. “My blood almost killed Daniel when he bit me without my permission. Plus he’s unable to manipulate me.”

  The three sages exchanged meaningful looks.

  “She isn’t fully human, I could feel that in her blood,” Daniel chimed in. Apparently he and Michael had already talked about that, because the latter didn’t seem the least bit surprised. Alexis asked him to elaborate on that, and he did: “Her blood tastes different. She’s part human, that’s for sure, but there is another, unfamiliar taste to it. It’s delicious and I don’t know whether I’d have been able to let her live if Michael hadn’t stopped me.” I threw him a reproachful glare, which he answered with a casual, insincere disclaimer: “I’m sure I would have felt sorry afterwards.”

  “Yeah, sure you would, but only because you would have died as well,” I shot back. Thanks to the casual vibe in the room, I had all but forgotten in whose presence I was. Daniel smirked. “Your blood only became toxic after you protested,” he pointed out cockily.

  Meanwhile Jeremeia was studying me with mounting fascination. I believe I saw him licking his lips. He turned to Martellius. “Have we found out anything about her parents yet?”

  “No, all we could verify is that they moved away five years ago. Neighbors from her home village told us. Her parents signed over their house to her and then vanished without a trace.”

  I was glad that they hadn’t been able to find Mama and Papa. A laugh escaped my throat, and suddenly all eyes were on me again. Michael’s father fastened his gaze on me. “Did you kill them?”

  “What? No!” I blurted the words in a voice that betrayed my shock at the idea. He kept looking at me with a thoughtful expression. “So that is not the reason for your silence. Are they still in Austria?” This time I did not answer his question, but merely returned his stare. “So they no longer live in Austria. Are they still in Europe?” he asked after a few seconds of staring. Apparently he could read my reactions, however minute they were, and concluded whether the answer was a yes or no. When I was a small child, my father had used to play a game with me, whose goal it was to mislead your opponent. You had to control your body language to fool the other players. Maybe I hadn’t forgotten everything. Martellius watched me for a long time, and spoke after briefly meeting everyone else’s eyes in the room: “Either you are a natural at this, or someone trained you to suppress the cues in your body language.” I was thrilled that it had worked, but that gave him the confirmation he wanted. “So someone trained you,” he concluded. I had to be more careful, or else they would get their answers despite my refusal to speak. They kept trying to elicit information on my parents, but I wasn’t willing to cooperate further. After what felt like an eternity and several expectant glances in Michael’s direction, they gave up.

  When this issue was laid to rest, I was told that I would have to return to the manor soon so they could perform a few tests on me. Of course nobody asked me whether I was okay with that. They simply sent me back to my room on my own so they could confer undisturbed.

  I hobbled down the hallway and realized that I wouldn’t be able to work on Saturday. Even with my new and improved healing capacities, a broken leg wouldn’t heal in two days. Therefore I called my boss to let him know I couldn’t come. He wasn’t happy with my short-term notice. Distracted by his implicit reproach, I didn’t notice that someone was following me.

  “Trouble at work?” I recognized the voice right away, it was Nikelaus. I turned around with a jerk. He gave me an amused smile. “Why so afraid? One could think you had a reason to be afraid of me.” He obviously relished the fact that he had me cornered, came closer and trailed the back of his hand down my cheek. “So you are Michael’s new favorite toy. Oh, I can understand his fascination. You practically sparkle with energy. I’m sure he won’t mind if I …” I had backed off as he spoke, but now I felt the wall in my back.

  He opened his arms, when Jeremeia’s voice came from behind him with a sharp: “I don’t think so!” He was standing between us in the blink of an eye, looking straight into Nikelaus’ eyes: “Maybe you should ask Michael’s permission first,” he suggested, sounding casual, as if this was a perfectly normal situation.

  “You are certainly right. Where have my manners gone?” Nikelaus replied with mock outraged self-criticism, before he left us alone.

  “What did he want from me?” I asked Jeremeia as soon as he turned around to face me.

  “It’s Michael’s place to tell you that.” He studied me with concern. “Are you okay?” he finally asked and put a comforting arm around me.

  That was the moment Michael turned the corner. “What is going on here?” he asked in a restrained voice. The only th
ing that betrayed the intensity of his anger was his eyes. They were burning with rage. I realized what this harmless situation must look like.

  “Nikelaus wanted to, well, you know …” Jeremeia explained, inhaled my scent once again, and then took a step backwards. Without a word, Michael came over, picked me up carefully, carried me to our room, and sat me down on the couch.

  He wanted to turn on his heel and leave again, but Jeremeia was standing by the door, blocking his way. “Don’t be stupid, she’s fine.” Michael grabbed a candlestick and hurled it across the room. The bronze item smashed a window and sailed through the air, all the way to the adjacent woods, where it crashed into a tree with a thump we could still hear inside. Michael was a pressure boiler ready to explode. I didn’t understand why he was so upset, but I decided to simply wait for him to calm down. Jeremeia remained in the doorway like a living barrier.

  “I’m going to ask Iveria to take you home today. She wants to go to Salzburg anyway. Your presence is no longer required here,” Michael announced firmly.

  When he and Jeremeia were about to leave the room, I asked: “What did Nikelaus want from me?” He stood before me in a flash, caressed my cheek, and said: “Next week in Salzburg I’ll set aside some time and we’ll talk about everything, but now I have to go.”

  I exhaled, feeling aggrieved. “Next week there will be no more excuses.” He was gone before I had finished my sentence.

  8 ANDREAS

  One hour later Iveria entered the room in a visibly foul mood. I had packed the few things that were mine and was ready to leave. She motioned for me to follow her, and we headed out to her car, a Mercedes SLS AMG. We had been on the road for thirty minutes and Iveria still hadn’t said a single word. I knew I had best kept my mouth shut, but sometimes you simply decide otherwise. “Is it a problem for you that I’m tagging along?” No reply, but she stepped on the gas. I glanced at the tachometer: We were going 110 miles an hour on the highway. “It seems that we’re in a hurry.”